The Survivor of the Fire
by Violet Rose of Darkness
Summary: While planning to rescue their brother Duncan from the clutches of the dreaded Esmé Squalor in the Mortmain Mountains, Quigley and Isadora Quagmire come across someone who they never thought they would. Largely AU
1. Chapter 1

**Somehow, this popped up in my head. This is an AU where the Baudelaire's and the Quagmire's have (sort of) switched. Takes place during _A Slippery Slope. _Please enjoy!**

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"I don't think this day can get any worse," muttered Quigley Quagmire miserably. He was currently lying face-up in the slow, wearing nothing more than a thin cotton sweater and a pair of jeans. Although, the cold was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment as he thought about the dire situation he was in.

His sister Isadora Quagmire held out a hand to help him up. "We've been in worse situations than this, Quig," she reminded him. "Remeber Marian and her wife? You nearly tripped into the fire. I think that's way worse than what just happened."

Quigley grimaced. "But we lost Duncan," he shot back. "If we can't even protect each other, what good are we?"

The two triplets had barely jumped out of the hurtling caravan in time before it toppled off the mountain. Of course, they would not have had to had it not been for one woman.

Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor. The siblings had been sent to live with her when their parents perished in a terrible fire along with their home. What had seemed like a comfortable (if not a tad bit excessive) had revealed itself to be a nightmare in disguise. They had been forced to clean the enormous penthouse apartment from top to bottom every day, she had struck Isadora across her face.

But worse of all was that the vile woman had attempted to marry Quigley in an effort to seize control of their large inheritance; the Quagmire Sapphires. The sapphires were stowed away in the bank until the triplets turned eighteen and were extremely valuable. However, by marrying Quigley, Esmé would have gained control of the entire fortune.

Luckily, Duncan and Isadora had been able to expose Esmé's plot, via the journal that the villainous woman had kept. They detailed every step of her plan, even highlighting the abuse and torment she had put the triplets through.

Ever since then, Duncan, Quigley, and Isadora had been unable to escape Esmé. She seemed to follow them wherever they went. She killed guardian after guardian, hunting them down and never relenting until she got ahold of their fortune. And when she had revealed Count Olaf (one of their former guardians) as her boyfriend, things just got worse. He was as evil and conniving as she was.

It had been absolute hell. But this was by far the worse thing that had ever happened to the triplets. They were separated and their brother was in the hands of the awful and evil Esmé Squalor and the villainous Count Olaf.

Quigley took his sister's hand and stood to his feet. "I guess we should start walking," he said. They couldn't waste time, not with their brother's life on the line. He began to move forward, his sister as his side.

"Olivia said that the survivor of the fire would be at the V.F.D. headquarters here," Isadora reminded him. "That could be Mother or Father. I think we should try to find them. Can you remember anything from the map?"

Maps, of course, were Quigley's specialty. However, he hadn't been able to study the map that Olivia had shown them, not before Esmé had burned down the carnival. Still, he did remember a few things. "This is the only road up the mountain," he told his sister. "If we follow it, we should be able to catch up with Esmé soon."

Isadora lowered her head slightly. "I can't believe we let this happen," she muttered miserably. "We should have been keeping a better eye on him."

Their brother was a bit... softer than his siblings. While Quigley and Isadora would spend their time outside (the latter often finding inspiration for her poetry from the world around her), he would always be inside either writing or reading. He was the 'nerd' between the three of them, the sensitive one. Of course, the other two didn't care so much; they loved their brother no matter what.

"Esmé won't hurt him," Quigley assured her. "She needs him to get our sapphires. As long as she thinks you and I are dead, he's safe for now."

His sister gave him a slightly cold look. "You and I both know that no one is ever safe around Esmé," she snapped. "We never thought that she would murder Uncle Harold or Aunt Kelly either, but she did. And maybe she can't kill him, but she can certainly hurt him. What if she tries to marry him as she did you?"

Quigley went rigid at the reminder; Esmé attempting to wed him had to be one of the most unpleasant memories he had. Just the thought of spending the rest of his life with that woman made him sick to his stomach. And it wasn't as if Esmé had been a gentle or loving bride-to-be...

Isadora, apparently, caught her mistake. "I'm sorry!" she blurted. "I didn't mean to- God, Quig, I'm sorry."

He quickly shook the memories out of his head. "It's fine," he told her. He knew that his sister didn't mean anything by it; she was as stressed as he was. "But you are right. Duncan won't be safe until we're all together again."

There was a tense silence between them for a while as they walked and Quigley was left alone to his thoughts. Esmé had Duncan in her clutches. She had Count Olaf and his acting troupe and the two triplets were horribly outnumbered. But she also thought he and Isadora were dead. Maybe they could use that to their advantage...

"We're at a crossroads," stated Isadora suddenly. The triplets came to a stop.

Quigley titled his head. "I... think it's more of a fork," he corrected her. Indeed, there was a fork in the road. There were to paths available for them to take, each leading to different places.

Isadora sighed at him. "I didn't mean that literally. I meant that we have to find which direction to go."

"Oh."

His sister shook her head before wiping a bit of snow off of both signs. "The Valley of Four Drafts," she read, gesturing to the sign pointing right. "V.F.D. This is where the headquarters is."

Quigley was about to comment on this when something caught his eye on the left road. "A bottle of sarsaparilla," he noticed. "There's some left and it's not frozen solid. That means it was just thrown by someone who doesn't care about littering. Count Olaf's this way, which means Esmé is too."

Isadora gave a soft hum. "Well, if we go to V.F.D., we can get help from other volunteers," she pointed out. "They can help us save Duncan."

"But Duncan's in danger _right now_," retorted Quigley. "We don't have time to search for the headquarters."

"Mother or Father might be there, Quigley!" Isadora shot back. "If we find them, they can help us. They can fix _everything_!"

His sister was being hopeful. She was hoping that their parents were alive so that everything could go back to how it was. She wanted their parents to handle everything like they used to.

But nothing was like it used to be. Even if their parents were alive, they couldn't depend on them. Not with all the secrets they had kept. In their time as orphans, the Quagmire's had learned that they could only depend on themselves and each other.

"If we do find Mother and Father," began Quigley quietly. "are you going to be able to look them in the eye and tell them that we lost our brother? That we didn't protect him?"

Silence.

Quigley sighed, standing on his path. "I think we should follow Esmé and Count Olaf."

Isadora stood on hers. "And I think we should go to V.F.D."

Quigley was about to tell her how stubborn and ridiculous she was being when a faint buzzing filled his eardrums. Looking up, he was able to spot a swarm of large, black gnats. "What... are those?" he asked his sister. They buzzed loudly and angrily as if they were going to attack at any moment.

Isadora was equally puzzled. "I have no idea," she stated plainly.

He looked at her. "Well, dear sister, I think we both know the best direction to go is away from those things."

She nodded. "I couldn't agree more, brother of mine."

With that, the two Quagmire triplets turned and ran as fast as they could in the other direction, flailing their arms as to not get stung by the insects.

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Eventually, the two came upon a secluded cave. The gnats, they noticed, stopped at the entrance and promptly flew away. "They're gone," observed Isadora. "I wonder why."

Quigley peered inside the cave. "Perhaps there's something in there that scares them," he suggested. Though, if there was something that frightened giant, killer nats, he didn't know how much better the two of them would fare. It was then that the boy could make out the silhouette of very familiar curls. "Oh no..." This was the absolute last thing they needed.

"Hello, cakesniffers," greeted a very familiar, evil girl dressed head-to-toe in pink.

Why did the universe hate them?

"Carmelita Spats," grounded out Isadora. Somehow, his sister detested the other girl even more than he did. He didn't even know how it was possible.

"Carmelita?" asked the snow scout leader, coming up behind the horrible little girl.

"They're in our cave," said the ginger girl irritably. "So, obviously, they're cakesniffers." Realization flashed across her face as she smirked maliciously. "Wait... you're those orphans from Prufrock Prep who lost your home in a fire and then Vice Prince-y expelled you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Quigley quickly. "What's Prufrock Prep?"

Isadora, however, glared harshly. "We weren't _expelled_," she snapped.

It was as if she had suddenly forgotten that they were criminals on the run, wanted for crimes that they did not commit. God, he wished Duncan was with them.

"I knew it!" proclaimed Carmelita loudly. "You're the Quagmire's!"

"I hope not!" the scout leader exclaimed. "I read about those terrible children in the Daily Punctilio! It says that they're murderers and arsonists! They started that enormous fire that's still raging across the Hinterlands!"

Quigley resisted the urge to insist on their innocence. "Well, then it's a good thing that we aren't them," he interjected. "We're, um..." He looked to his sister for help.

"Mountain climbers," Isadora finished for him. "Just your average mountain climbers."

"We're looking for our brother," Quigley added. "He looks just like us and he's being held captive by dangerous-looking people. Have you seen him?"

"Well, we haven't seen anyone," the scout leader told them. "We've been in this cave, hiding from snow gnats. But we do have a map on the mountains that you can consult."

"No!" snapped Carmelita. "No! Scout Master Brucie, this cave is for snow scouts only!" She began to stomp her foot like the brat she was. "And they're obviously the Quagmire's, just look at their little _orphan_ faces!"

"Now Carmelita," chided Brucie. "Us snow scouts should be accommodating. It's the first word of our pledge."

"We're accommodating to _non_-cakesniffers with rich, _living_ parents!" insisted Carmelita. "After all, Troop 113 is the most exclusive, isn't it, Brucie?"

Brucie looked down miserably. "I have to carry their luggage," she murmured.

"It's designer," Carmelita added gleefully.

"Well, I think anyone with two working legs ought to carry their own luggage, Carmelita Spats," a voice interjected. The triplets turned to see someone about their height dressed in plain, brown snow gear. Their gender was completely concealed, but from the sound of their voice, they were a girl not much older than them. She turned to the siblings. "Why don't you join us by the fire? We have more than enough parkas and snowsuits if you're cold. Extra masks, too."

"Why would we want masks?" asked Quigley.

"If you're outside, they keep the snow gnats away," Brucie informed them.

"Not only that," said the masked person. "But it can make for a Very Furtive Disguise."

Quigley and Isadora looked at each other. _V.F.D._

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**This story won't be too long. Maybe three or four chapters? Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't ask me why I posted another chapter today. Please enjoy!**

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"And then Cinderella told Prince Charming that she's got an even more beautiful sister whose name is Carmelita," Carmelita Spats continued her very inaccurate and dull retelling of the classic fairytale _Cinderella. _Quigley may have not been a big fan of the original story (he never liked stories about princesses, unlike his siblings), but he would take that over Carmelita's version any day. "so he married her instead. And then she divorced him and took all his money. The end!"

Everyone clapped except for him, Isadora, and the mysterious, hidden girl. He didn't care if they stood out, Quigley would not applaud a bad story and he could tell Isadora was thinking the same thing. He didn't know who the masked girl was, but he already liked her better than every other snow scout in the cave.

"Now, this is the story of Sleeping Beauty's even more adorable younger sister-" the wretched little girl began again.

If he had to sit through one more story about a princess' 'younger and more adorable' sister named Carmelita, Quigley was going to tear his own ears off.

Luckily, Brucie came to their rescue. "Carmelita, you've told nine stories already," she interrupted. "Maybe somebody else would like a turn." She turned to the triplets. "I bet mountain climbers have interesting stories."

"Yeah," agreed Carmelita snidely, staring at the Quagmires with contempt in her eyes and an awful little smile on her face. "Has something _really_ terrible happened to you?"

Isadora didn't back down as her eyes narrowed. "I don't think that's any of your business," she snapped.

Quigley shot her a glare. "I think what my sister means is that we're not very comfortable sharing," he quickly covered up. God, if Isadora wasn't careful, she was going to get them arrested.

Brucie frowned at them. "You should be more accommodating," she chided. "After all..."

All the snow scouts around them began to chant, "Snows Scouts are accommodating, basic, calm, darling, emblematic, frisky, grinning, human, innocent, jumping, kept, limited, meek, nap-loving, official, pretty, quarantined, recent, scheduled, tidy, understandable, victorious, wholesome, xylophone, young, and zippered–every morning, every afternoon, every night, and all day long!"

Quigley raised an eyebrow. "You're joking, right? That's not _really_ your pledge, is it?" He had never heard such an unnecessarily long 'pledge.' Half of it didn't even make sense!

Isadora blinked. "How can someone be '_xylophone_?'" she asked incredulously. "That's a noun, not an adjective."

Carmelita glared at them. "You can't change the words of the Snow Scout Alphabet Pledge!" she snapped. She plastered a fake smile onto her face. "The whole point of the snow scouts is that we do the same thing over and over! We wear the same parkas, we recite the same pledge, and every year, we celebrate False Spring at the top of Mount Fraught. And we always make Brucie carry our luggage."

"I'm almost afraid to ask this," said Isadora. "but what's False Spring?"

Carmelita rolled her eyes. "Anyone who's not a cakesniffer knows that False Spring is when the weather gets unusually warm before it gets cold again," she told them. "We celebrate with a dance around a special pole, and then _I_ get chosen False Spring Queen."

"It doesn't have to be you," muttered Brucie under her breath.

Carmelita heard. "Yes it does!" she insisted. "Because _I'm_ the most accommodating, basic calm-"

"Are the two of your certain that you don't have a story to share with us?" interrupted the mystery girl from earlier. She had been silent the entire time until now. "I, personally, am very fond of _Very Fascinating Dramas_."

Quigley and Isadora looked at each other with uncertainty. This girl was obviously a V.F.D. member, but from which side of the schism? "We know a lot of stories," said Quigley slowly.

"Stories about _Vastly Frightening Danger_," continued Isadora. "and _Vain Fashionable Divas_."

"Have you read the story _Frankenstein _by Mary Shelley?" asked the girl.

The triplets shared a look. "Our father used to read us that for bed every night," Quigley answered slowly. He remembered that very clearly. To this day, it was still Duncan's favorite story, especially now. It helped him feel close to their father, he'd told them.

"We were very young," added Isadora. "so he'd have to stop and explain what was going on and what the themes were to us."

Mystery Girl looked like she wanted to say more- it was hard to tell with the mask- but didn't get the chance to. _"Boring!" _proclaimed Carmelita loudly.

Isadora's hand twitched in anger. _"Frankenstein_ is a classic piece of English literature!" she snapped. Quigley flinched slightly. He could understand why his sister was angry; their father had loved _Frankenstein_.

"That's another word for boring," Carmelita continued, uncaring. "And so are stories about dead parents."

Quigley fought not to let the anger show on his face.

"Carmelita has a point," Brucie agreed. "Anyhow, it's late and I feel sick from eating so many marshmallows. So, everyone, get in your sleeping bags. You should stay the night here, travelers. We have some extra horse blankets you can sleep on."

"You cakesniffers should sleep far away from us," suggested Carmelita snidely. "Those blankets smell like nail polish."

Quigley could practically see Mystery Girl roll her eyes from under her mask. "You would know, Carmelita," she almost spat. "You're the one who spilled nail polish on them."

Carmelita scowled at her but said nothing.

Mystery Girl handed the triplets a couple of blankets. "Good night, travelers," she said kindly. Suddenly, her tone grew more serious as she continued quietly, "The fire will die out in a few hours. You'd be surprised at how easy some things are to find in the dark."

"Like what?" asked Isadora softly.

"Missing loved ones," answered Mystery Girl.

Quigley's eyes darted around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Who are you?" he questioned. The curiosity was eating away at him. She obviously wasn't a snow scout, so where did she come from? And why was she here?

Before she could answer, they were interrupted by Carmelita. "Cakesniffers whispering in a cave," she remarked with her arms crossed. "Is there anything less adorable? Come on, we don't socialize with orphans."

Mystery Girl titled her head (Quigley thought it was supposed to be a silent apology) before following the nasty little girl.

Quigley and Isadora settled down onto their blankets. "Do you think we can trust her?" asked the young poet.

"She's obviously with V.F.D.," stated Quigley. Those little phrases were enough to convince him. "But why is she dressed as a snow scout? And why did she mention _Frankenstein_ of all things?"

"And why does she never take that mask off?" added Isadora. "She hasn't taken it off the entire time she's been here. Isn't that a little strange?"

"I suppose we'll find out when the fire goes out," said Quigley. "She's right about something, it'll be a lot easier to find Duncan when Esmé's sleeping." He rolled his eyes slightly. "Because we all know she needs her beauty sleep."

Isadora smirked. "I wouldn't be surprised if her vanity's the thing that will bring her down," she commented. The smirk slipped from her lips as she frowned a bit. "Quig."

He looked at his sister. "Yes?"

"If Mother or Father really is alive and is waiting for us, who do you think it is?" she asked.

Silence. Before then, he hadn't really gotten a chance to think about it. But it was a good question. Which Quagmire parent, if any, survived the fire? Isidore Quagmire or Dinah Quagmire?

"There's a fifty-fifty chance," Quigley answered after a few minutes. "It's impossible to guess which one."

Isadora glanced away from him. "I can't help but try anyway," she murmured to herself.

Quigley looped his arm around her and sighed. "Me too." He pulled his blanket over his body. "Why don't we get some sleep? We have to wake up in a few hours and I went to be well-rested when we do." Isadora nodded and mimicked him.

Soon enough, the two triplets fell asleep, wanting nothing more in the world than to find their brother.

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Quigley woke up to find Mystery Girl standing over them, a spyglass in her hand. Noticing that they were waking up, she quickly shushed them. "Come with me," she beckoned. Quigley and Isadora quickly stood up and followed her. They tiptoed past the sleeping snow scouts, but Mystery Girl stopped once they were in the middle near the fire.

"I had to wait until the fire went out to show you this," she explained, pointing above them.

There was a hole in the ceiling of the cave, a whole that went upwards. "Vertical Flame Diversion?" Quigley read. It honestly reminded him of a chimney.

"It's not just a chimney," Mystery Girl told them. "It's a passageway."

"How did you know about it?" asked Isadora.

"I read about it," answered Mystery Girl. "It's in a book titled _The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations_."

"We've seen that book before," said Quigley, recalling the time Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire had shown it to them at Prufrock Prep. "But why-"

"What are you doing?" demanded the voice of Carmelita. All three of them tensed, but relaxed when the realized that her eyes were still closed and she was still sleeping. "Give me those earrings, Rachel."

Quigley sighed in relief but moved slightly closer to the girl. "We have no idea who you are, not with that mask covering your face," he stated plainly. "How do we know we can trust you?"

Mystery Girl chuckled. "Funny you should say that," she said. "because I was just thinking the same about you. But you do bring up a good point. I am, after all, the one with the mask on. So, I'll say this."

She leaned closer to them. "You've no reason to trust me. But believe me when I tell you that we want the same thing. We both want to find people we've lost and our only chance is by getting to that headquarters. But I can't do it alone. I need your help."

Quigley and Isadora still looked doubtful, so Mystery Girl sighed. "Xenial," she began. "begins with 'x.' It's also a word that means welcoming to strangers. Perhaps knowing fancy words doesn't make me completely trustworthy, but how many villains that you've met are well-read?"

Well, not Esmé. And certainly not Count Olaf. The girl did have a point.

"I only watch network television," murmured Carmelita in her sleep.

And Quigley was definitely not staying here. "They're asleep," he pointed out. "You could take off your mask."

Mystery Girl shook her head. "There are enemies everywhere," she told them. "Remember, you never know who's watching." She turned and began to walk again. "Follow me."

The Quagmire's trailed after her, stepping carefully as to not step on the snow scouts. Luckily, they made it to the ladder without any complications. Without hesitation, Mystery Girl began to climb. Quigley looked at his sister before hauling himself up after her. Isadora was the last one up.

It wasn't very hard for Quigley, he often climbed the trees in their backyard before the fire. It was Isadora he was worried about. His sister had never had much upper body strength.

"Crap!" exclaimed Isadora suddenly.

Quigley immediately looked down. "What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

She looked a bit embarrassed. "Just a spider," she assured him. "Don't worry about me, keep going."

"We're almost there," Mystery Girl told them.

"What do you think we'll find?" asked Isadora.

Quigley did not answer her. He was afraid that saying it out loud would jinx it. Still, he gave Isadora a reassuring smile and she smiled in return. He knew that she knew what he was thinking.

OoOoOo

Finally, the three children made it to the end of the ladder. Mystery Girl opened the hatch and they ended up somewhere very familiar. "This looks like the tunnel we found under our house," Isadora commented, looking around.

"V.F.D. built them everywhere," Mystery Girl explained. "It's a way they can travel anywhere in the world, unnoticed." She ran her hand over the wall. "It must have taken them forever. Not only to actually construct the tunnels but to think of a way to build them so that nobody but V.F.D. members can access them. It's genius, really."

She pointed to a large door with a lock attached to it. "According to the book, the headquarters waits on the other side of that door."

Quigley's eyes settled on the lock. "That lock looks complicated," he remarked. "How are we supposed to open it?"

"They call it a Vernacularly Fastened Door," Mystery Girl told them.

Isadora's eyes lit up. "So, it unlocks using language," she realized.

She pointed to the hinges connecting the lock to the door. "The keyboard is wired to the hinges, you see? You have to type in the correct phrase."

"Sounds easy enough," said Quigley.

"Not really," said Mystery Girl. "There are three phrases, mind you. If you get one wrong, the door locks forever." She opened what appeared to be a small journal. "The first question is the smallest state in the United States."

Quigley sighed in relief. "Rhode Island," he answered confidently. What were the odds that it would be geographical?

Isadora typed it in and one of the hinges unlocked. "Nice job, Quig," she told him. "What's the next question?"

"Who is the author of the poem _Nothing Gold Can Stay_?"

Isadora grinned. "Robert Frost," she said. Without hesitation, she typed the answer it and another one of the hinges unlocked. "Last question?"

Mystery Girl hesitated a bit. "The true villain in the book _Frankenstein_."

The triplets looked at each other. "That's... an interesting question," commented Quigley. Most people would think that it was Victor for trying to play God, but that seemed to be too obvious of an answer.

"The true villain," Isadora repeated. "Jeez, I wish Duncan was here. He would know the answer for sure."

"I've never read it," admitted Mystery Girl with a shrug.

"Is that why you asked about it?" questioned Quigley.

She nodded. "I thought there was a chance you would have an I was right. I'm looking for people, just like you are. Do you know the answer?"

"I think it's society," piped up Isadora. "Creating life 'unnaturally' is something a lot of people do, especially nowadays with donors. Society deems what's acceptable and what isn't. If we didn't have ruled on how a person should look, Victor would have never abandoned his creation."

"I think you're right," agreed Quigley. "That's the same reason why the peasants shunned him. I think Father told us that when we were younger."

Isadora smiled. "He was preparing us."

"Try it," Mystery Girl urged them.

Isadora nodded and typed in the answer. The hinge began to turn, but stopped abruptly and let out a loud squeak. Quigley froze in fear, afraid that they had answered wrong and now they were locked out forever. Luckily, this moment passed as the door continued to unlock.

Mystery Girl sighed in relief. "It must have been stuck," she realized. "Are you ready?"

"This is so exciting!" gushed Isadora. "What if they're all here, having a meeting? Or what if one of our parents is waiting on the other side of this door? Open it, Quig!"

Quigley nodded, pulling open the large door. Instead of finding one of the Quagmire parents on the other side, the three children were met with a thin layer of smoke which caused them all to start coughing. Peering inside, it was clear that there was no one here. Because everything was burned to the ground.

But the Quagmire's were hopeful anyway. "Mother?" called Isadora.

"Father!" Quigley called.

No answer. The place was completely deserted.

"It's all gone," whimpered Isadora miserably. "After everything we've gone through, it was all for nothing. We were too late. All those maps, secret codes. Everything was useless."

"No..." muttered Quigley. Suddenly, any hope he had crumbled along with his heart. If anyone had been here, they were gone now. "No, no! One of them is supposed to be here! Jacques Snicket said that there was a survivor of the fire!"

Mystery Girl sighed. "There is," she told them.

"Where?" asked Isadora.

"Right in front of you," she told them. "I survived the fire that destroyed my home." Finally, she removed her mask, revealing her face to them. She was a very pretty girl with long dark hair and warm brown eyes.

Quigley's eyes were wide; something about the girl was familiar. Very familiar. "Who are you?" he demanded. Yet, as he studied her, he couldn't help but notice her nose; it was pointed and slanted.

The very same nose the belonged to Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. But that would mean that this girl was-

"Violet," answered Mystery Girl, smiling at him. "Violet Baudelaire."

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**I... don't like this chapter. Like, at all. But I hope you liked it and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's another chapter for you all. Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

The triplets stared at the girl in complete in utter disbelief. "_Violet_ Baudelaire?" questioned Quigley. "That can't be possible." Klaus had told them himself that she had died. Yet, no one could mistake how much the girl in front of them resembled her siblings. She had Sunny's round face and Klaus' exact shade of hair. And no one could mistake that Baudelaire nose.

"We were told that you were killed in the Baudelaire fire," continued Isadora. There was a slight edge to her voice, one of doubt and mistrust.

Violet didn't seem phased by this. "I survived," she told them again.

"How?" asked Quigley. How could their parents have been unable to survive when this girl, who couldn't be much older than them, did?

Violet suddenly got a faraway look in her eyes. "We were supposed to go to Briny Beach together," she recalled solemnly. "Klaus and Sunny and I. But I hadn't been feeling very well, so I stayed home with my parents. Around noon, I was feeling better though, so I was with my father in the parlor." She sighed. "I was trying to fix the grandfather clock so that it would chime and toast bread at the same time. It had been acting up lately, you see."

"Wait," interrupted Isadora with interest. "you made a grandfather clock that toasts bread?"

Quigley glared at his sister and nudged her. "Don't mind her, Violet," he said. "Please continue."

Violet didn't seem the least bit annoyed by the interruption. "Father smelled smoke," she continued. "Or at least, I think he did. I wasn't sure. Either way, he quickly grabbed me and put me down into the tunnels, while he went to get Mother." She stopped short and he was worried she might start crying. "He... never came back. And I was alone."

"You must have been so afraid," Isadora sympathized, her tone much warmer now.

"I was," admitted Violet. "I didn't know what to do."

"We know how that feels," said Quigley. Although, he had no idea what it must have felt like to be alone without his siblings. Duncan and Isadora had always been his strength. Without them, he didn't know what would happen.

Violet smiled slightly at them. "I know you do," she said kindly. "Anyway, I followed the tunnels until I came upon a house. It was filled with bones and fossils and I found granola bars and juice boxes to snack on."

"That was our Aunt Kelly's house," Isadora told her sadly. Aunt Kelly had been their best guardian; they had their own rooms, were fed three full meals, and had access to her expansive library.

"It was empty when I got there," Violet responded. "I found _An Incomplete History of Secret Organizations _in the library." She held out her spyglass. "This was hidden in the tunnels under my house. With this and the book, I learned all about V.F.D. and the schism." She grimaced slightly. "I got a newspaper detailing Klaus and Sunny's kidnapping, so I found out that the headquarters was here. I went undercover as a snow scout in case whoever burned down my house was still watching."

She frowned. "I was hoping to get help from the V.F.D., but..." She gestured around them and sighed. "This was my last chance to find my brother and sister."

"Klaus and Sunny are safe," promised Isadora quickly. "They were able to escape Esmé Squalor in a self-sustaining hot air mobile home."

Something shone in Violet's eyes. "That sounds amazing," she said. However, her amazement didn't last long. "Wait, how do you know that?"

Quigley gave the girl what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "We helped them," he told her. "They're our friends."

Violet looked a bit hopeful at this information. "Do you know where they are?" she asked.

"No," answered Isadora solemnly. "but they're safe. We promise." She sighed, looking around. "We were hoping to find one of our parents up here." For the first time, she smiled at the girl. "But we're glad we found you."

Violet smiled back. "And we'll find Duncan," she swore. "You helped my brother and sister, Quagmires, and for that, I owe you a great debt. Now, I'll help you save your brother." She handed Quigley the map. "I've never been the best with maps. Maybe you can do better."

Quigley took it and was about to express his gratitude towards her when something caught his eye. "Is that... green smoke?" he questioned with uncertainty. The three children moved outside to get a closer look.

"Strange," commented Isadora. "It's coming from Mount Fraught."

"I've seen that before," said Violet, squinting at the smoke. "It's called a Verdant Flammable Device. It's in the book that V.F.D. uses them to send signals."

"So, someone from V.F.D. could be up there?" asked Quigley. Maybe they could find help, after all. Maybe someone from V.F.D. could help them save their brother.

Isadora's eyes were trained on the mountain. "Or it's Duncan," she said hopefully. "We have to get up there."

Quigley consulted the map and grimaced. "It's a long way to the top," he explained grimly. "We have to go back through the Vernacularly Fastened Door, down the Vertical Flame Diversion, and hike the same road the snow scouts are taking-"

"There's a more direct way to the top," Violet interrupted. Anyone could see that the cogs in her mind were turning as she stared up at the mountain.

Quigley raised an eyebrow at her. "No there's not," he insisted. Really, he appreciated her help in finding his brother, but maps were his specialty. "Look at the map."

Violet didn't even look at him. "Look at the waterfall," she retorted. The siblings followed her gaze and noticed that the waterfall coming from Mount Fraught was frozen solid.

OoOoOo

As Violet was in the headquarters looking for something to work with, Isadora was watching the Verdant Flammable Device with the spyglass that Klaus had given her, Quigley standing next to her. They both flinched, however, when the green smoke suddenly stopped. "M-Maybe the Verdant Flammable Device went out?" his sister suggested.

"Or the person signaling got caught," said Quigley grimly. He just hoped that Duncan was alright. He grimaced as a horrible noise sounded through the air. "It sounds like something terrible is happening up there."

"I wonder what Violet's doing back there," Isadora thought aloud. "She's been gone for a while."

Quigley appreciated the change of subject. "Well, Klaus did say that she was an inventor," he reminded her. "Perhaps she's inventing a way up the mountain."

"Look what I found," Violet announced, making her presence known to the triplets. In her hands, she held a burnt ukulele, a candelabra, and other objects that Quigley couldn't begin to name. They followed her inside and she sprawled the objects across the table. "I salvaged these from the rubble." She handed them a trophy. "I recognize some of these names.

"My father took me to Dr. Torondado's engineering lectures." Violet handed them another trophy. "My mother gave Klaus a book by C.M. Comstock on Female Finnish Pirates. It's where I learned the Devil's Tongue Knot." Finally, she held up a typewriter.

Isadora squinted. "Who's L. Snicket?" she asked.

"I read his book on maps," Quigley piped up, immediately recognizing the name. "and his tutorial on playing the accordion."

"It's like our parents were training us for V.F.D. and we didn't even know it," mused Isadora. "Pretty brilliant on their part."

"They must have known that there would be a time where they wouldn't be here," Quigley continued quietly. In his heart, however, he knew it wasn't enough. His parents should have told them. They should have explained everything to them so that they would have been prepared for situations like these.

Violet offered him a sympathetic smile. "Let's use what they gave us," she urged them. She took a ribbon out of her pocket and tied up her long, dark hair.

Quigley and Isadora watched Violet as she worked with something akin to amazement. She was every bit as diligent and focused as Klaus has described her, and then some. They looked on as she put together various pieces, her mind moving at least mile a minute.

"Quigley," said Violet, grabbing his attention. "hand me the candelabra."

He did as she said, breaking it off and giving it to her. She took it and used it to hammer some damaged forks into shape. However, Violet stopped for a second, as if listening to a voice that only she could hear. After a second, she shook it off and continued to hammer the forks, if only a bit softer this time.

Violet then began to pluck the strings from the burnt ukulele and began tying them to the shoe. But she stopped again, listening to something only she could hear. She looked down at the shoes before changing the knot completely.

Quigley's eyes stayed on her as she watched in admiration. Violet Baudelaire was truly brilliant.

Violet finally looked up at them. "It's time for a durability test," she decided. Walking over to one of the fallen pieces of wood, she stuck her invention into it. It stayed perfectly. She smiled in satisfaction. "It works." She took it out and made her way back to the table. "The waterfall will be slippery. The tines on these forks will be able to dig into the ice."

"I think you should see this," announced Isadora, walking up to them with a book in her hands. "I was searching to see if any of the books survived the fire." She smiled a bit. "I found this in the poetry section."

Quigley rolled his eyes. "Of course you did." She tilted to read the book. "_Odes_?"

Isadora gave him a dull look and brushed off the book. "_Codes_," she clarified. "According to this book, V.F.D. have a secret way to leave coded messages in case of fires."

Violet caught on. "So, you're saying that there could be a message hidden now?" she asked. She received a nod. "Then someone needs to stay up here and find it."

"How are you at cracking codes?" questioned Isadora.

Violet grimaced. "Not good," she answered. "Klaus was always better at it than I was."

"And we both know I'm better with maps," added Quigley.

Isadora sighed. "I guess I'll have to stay behind and try to crack it," she accepted. "I'm not as good as Klaus, but I can try. The two of you are better at climbing than me, anyhow. I would just slow you down. Violet, you go with Quigley and save Duncan. I'll stay here to see if I can learn anything."

Quigley looked at his sister in concern. "Are you sure?"

She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft smile. "We can't waste any time," she told him firmly. "For all that reading I do, I should be able to learn something. Besides, if the invention breaks somehow, you'll need Violet to repair it."

Violet looked at her with determination. "If it's Duncan up there, we _will_ bring him back," she promised.

Somehow, Isadora's smile became even sadder. "I know you will," she said softly. She left the other two alone to prepare for their journey.

Quigley gave Violet a grateful smile. "Thank you for doing this. You didn't have to."

Violet smiled back. "You saved Klaus and Sunny," she reminded him. "You took care of them and watched over them when I couldn't. For that, I will always be grateful to you Quagmires." She grabbed her pair of Fork-Assisted Climbing Shoes. "Let's get going."

OoOoOo

Quigley and Violet stood in front of the waterfall, their shoes on and candelabras in their hands. "We'll use these to pull ourselves up and test for thin ice so we don't fall," she explained as they approached the waterfall.

"Not falling is an excellent plan," Quigley agreed. He felt his stomach lurch slightly. If they found Duncan up there, they were sure to find Esmé, Count Olaf, and Count Olaf's troupe. They were leaping head-first into danger. Yet, as he looked to the girl next to him, he didn't see an ounce of fear. She just looked determined; there was a fire dancing in her brown eyes.

"Are you ready?" asked Violet.

"If we wait until we're ready..." Quigley began.

"We'll be waiting for the rest of our lives." Violet finished. They looked at each other and nodded. Without another word, the two of them began their perilous climb up the waterfall.

OoOoOo

**I like this chapter a lot better than the last. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here you go, everyone! Another chapter! Please enjoy!**

OoOoOo

The grunts of Quigley and Violet were evident as they hauled themselves up the waterfall. Quigley was getting a bit winded, but he could tell that Violet was struggling. Every few minutes, he would glance down at her to make sure she was alright. At one point, Violet nearly slipped and Quigley could only watch with wide eyes and pray she didn't fall. However, she managed to pull herself back up.

Quigley decided that now was a good time for a break. "We should rest," he suggested. Violet obviously needed it judging by how red her face was. "I see a ledge. It's not much further."

He made it to the ledge first and held his hand out to the girl. "Here," he offered. "I got you." Violet took it and used it to pull herself onto the ledge next to him. She gave him a beautiful smile and he felt something flutter in his chest at the sight. "T-This ledge is solid. We should sit here for a moment to get our strength back."

"Good idea," agreed Violet, still smiling at him. "You're an excellent climber."

Quigley smiled back. "You're an excellent inventor," he retorted. And she really was. He had never meant someone who could so easily create something extremely useful from various miscellaneous objects. She was truly extraordinary.

And the fact that she was helping him rescue his brother was just an added bonus.

She blushed slightly. "Thanks," she said. "But let's not celebrate yet. There's a long way to go."

"Celebrate when you're half done and the finish won't be quite as fun," mused Quigley. "My sister wrote that." He looked down at the headquarters, making sure that nothing had happened. Sure enough, nothing had changed from when they left. She was still safe.

"I do wish Klaus was here," responded Violet, smiling wistfully. "With him and Isadora working together, they would figure it out in no time. And Sunny could probably bite anyone who got to close to us." She sighed. "I miss them terribly."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Once we find Duncan, we'll look for Klaus and Sunny," he assured her. Perhaps the six of them could run away to some remote location and live together, away from Esmé and Count Olaf and the rest of the evil in the world. She smiled at him and was about to say something when her glove suddenly slipped off her hand and fell to the ground. "Your glove!"

She waved it off. "We'll get it on the way down," she reasoned, slipping the other one off. She looked out to the horizon. "You know, if you have to hide a headquarters, it's a beautiful place to do it. It's a lovely view."

Quigley, however, could only see her and her brilliant mind and her fiery brown eyes and her long brown hair. "Very lovely indeed," he agreed, taking his own gloves off. Only, he wasn't talking about the view and they both knew it.

Violet blushed a pretty pink color and looked back at him. For the first time since Quigley met her, she looked bashful and even a little shy. Subconsciously, his hand reached out for her exposed one. When she didn't pull away, he curled his fingers around her slender ones. They were calloused- probably from all the inventing she did- but also small and refined and, wow, they seemed to fit perfectly in his slightly larger ones.

He gazed at her and she looked back at him from behind her long eyelashes. She nodded at him slightly and immediately, he knew.

Quigley wasn't sure which one of them leaned in first, but before he knew it their lips had connected. Violet's lips were surprisingly warm and soft, given the weather they were in. He felt her fingers grip his a bit more firmly as he gently brought a hand to her face, cupping her round cheek.

The kiss wasn't long at all. In fact, it only lasted a few seconds. But that didn't matter. Not to Violet, it seemed, and certainly not to Quigley. When they pulled away, he allowed his hand to linger on her face for a moment. They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither knowing what to do now.

Finally, Violet cleared her throat. "We should get going," she decided. "The sooner we find your brother, the sooner we can get out of here."

"And find Klaus and Sunny," added Quigley.

She smiled at him. "And find Klaus and Sunny," she agreed.

OoOoOo

When they finally reached the top of the waterfall, Quigley was so exhausted that he thought his arms might fall off. The pain immediately diminished, however, when he caught sight of his brother. He felt relief wash over him, but it was quickly replaced with anger when he realized that his brother, who was about five feet and three inches, was locked in a three-foot bird cage.

Violet's eyes were wide. "Who locks someone in a bird cage?" she cried incredulously.

Quigley attempted to reel in his anger. "Someone who doesn't care about anyone but herself," he answered. "Esmé Squalor is a vile woman, Violet Baudelaire."

She nodded. "I've no doubt about that, Quigley Quagmire," she responded. She surveyed the area. "That hook-handed man is standing guard. How are we going to get him out of there?"

Quigley attempted to catch his brother's eye without attracting attention from anyone else and it worked. Duncan looked up at The-Hook-Handed Man. "I'm getting pretty thirsty," he told him. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"We've got plenty of ice water," The Hook-Handed Man answered plainly.

Duncan looked at him dully. "I'd rather not freeze to death," he replied. "It's not like I have a jacket to keep me warm like the rest of you. Besides, I really have a craving for something fizzy."

The Hook-Handed Man thought about this. "I saw the boss chuck a half-empty bottle of sarsaparilla down the road," he responded. "but I'm not supposed to leave you alone."

Duncan shrugged. "It's not like I can go anywhere," he reasoned, holding his hands up. "I have nothing on me."

The Hook-Handed Man sighed. "Alright, fine," he agreed begrudgingly. "Wait right here." He then hurried away, giving the two children on the ledge the opportunity they needed.

That was their cue. Quigley and Violet hauled themselves up the mountain and traveled behind the rocks as to not be seen. Quigley approached the cage while Violet stayed a few inches behind him. "Duncan!" he said in relief.

Duncan smiled at him and one would never think he had just been kidnapped and separated from his siblings. "Hey, Quig," he greeted. He looked around curiously. "Where's Isa?"

"She's at the headquarters," answered Quigley hurriedly. He studied the lock on the cage, analyzing the best way to open it. "We're here to save you."

Duncan tilted his head in confusion as his eyes settled on Violet. "Who's that?" he asked nonchalantly.

"This is Violet Baudelaire," Quigley introduced, his cheeks heating up slightly as he recalled the small kiss they had shared. "Klaus' sister. She survived the fire after all." He smiled slightly. "There's so much we have to tell you."

"Brat!" exclaimed a familiar British accent. _Esmé._

"Hide!" hissed Duncan. Quigley and Violet quickly did as he said.

Esmé and Count Olaf appeared from their tent and stalked over to the locked-up boy. "You're going to cook a very fancy, very 'in' dinner," the financial adviser demanded. "Tonight, we're celebrating False Spring."

Count Olaf gave that evil, chilling grin of his. "That's not all we're celebrating." The two villains began to chuckle, sending shivers down Quigley's spine.

"Darling," said Esmé suddenly. "Where's that henchman of yours, the one with the hooks? Did you not tell him to wait right here?"

"You seem to have trouble controlling your underlings."

However much Esmé and Count Olaf terrified him, Quigley felt true terror run through his veins when he saw who emerged from the tent. A Woman With Hair But No Beard and a Man With a Beard But No Hair approached them. Their very presence seemed to make the entire mountain colder than it was. He thought that he saw even Esmé and Count Olaf flinch at the sound of their voices.

"Well, I see no harm in allowing them to wander," reasoned Esmé quickly. "Getting some space from time-to-time is very 'in' right now. Right, darling?"

"Of course, my pet," agreed Olaf.

The Woman With Hair But No Beard ignored this. "We have a job for you," she told them. "There's a camp in the woods."

"There, you will find a tarp," continued the Man With A Beard But No Hair. "Bring it here and lay it over the road."

"That sounds like work," observed Esmé. "Why do we have to do it?"

"You do it because we say so," the Woman With Hair But No Beard snapped harshly.

"That's a good point," Count Olaf responded, his shiny eyes actually showing an ounce of fear. "We've already yelled at the brat, there's not much else to do here, anyway."

In all the time Quigley had encountered her, he had never seen Esmé Squalor comply so quickly to someone else's orders. "Yes, yes, of course," she agreed.

"You're too concerned about that boy, Esmé," said the Man With A Beard But No Hair.

"After tonight, countless orphans and their fortunes will be ours," added the Woman With Hair But No Beard.

"Are you sure they're all orphans?" asked Esmé.

Her mentor smirked. "Not yet, they're not."

Well, that didn't sound good.

Once the villains were gone, Quigley and Violet approached Duncan yet again. "Who are those horrible people?" Quigley asked his brother. "They seem worse than Esmé and Count Olaf!"

Duncan grimaced. "They're arsonists," he answered. "You know the schism that Olivia told us about? Well, they're on the fire-starting side. They're like Esmé's mentors. And I think they have a grudge against Mother and Father."

"Who doesn't?" muttered Quigley under his breath. "Are they the ones that burned down the headquarters?"

"They are," replied Duncan solemnly. "Even Esmé is scared of them."

"Then we have to get you out of here," decided Violet. "We can't let you stay another minute with them." She moved forward with her lock pick. "I can unlock this in a few seconds."

Duncan smiled kindly at her. "I thank you for your help, Violet Baudelaire," he said. "but I'm afraid I can't go with you."

Quigley rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid," he snapped. "Of course you are. We came up here to save you."

"Mata Hari," said his brother simply.

He blinked stupidly at him. This was _not_ the time. "_Who_?"

"She's a Dutch courtesan who spied on Germany during World War One." This answer didn't come from Duncan but from Violet. She looked at the younger boy with calculating eyes. "Are you saying that you want to stay here and see what they're planning?"

Duncan beamed at her. "You're every bit as brilliant as Klaus said. If I can find out what they're planning, we can stop them before they're able to go through with it."

Violet turned to Quigley. "Those villains were talking about making more orphans," she reminded him. "If Duncan can find out what they're planning, it's possible that we could make sure that what happened to us won't happen to anyone else."

"Like I said," chimed in Duncan. "Brilliant."

"We can't just leave you here with Esmé, Count Olaf, and those other two!" argued Quigley. He couldn't believe that they were even arguing about this. The safety of his siblings came before V.F.D., always. "You're my brother!"

Duncan took his hand. "And I always will be," he promised. "But I don't need you and Isa to look out for me all the time. I have to be able to take care of myself too."

"I hope you're not getting into any trouble boy!" came the voice of the Hook-Handed Man.

"He's coming back!" noticed Violet. "Quigley, we have to go!"

"I can't leave you," insisted Quigley. "How are you going to escape?"

Duncan smiled at him. "I'm not totally useless, you know," he joked. "I'm sure I'll be able to think of something."

That struck a chord with Quigley. Even before the fire, he and Isadora had made an effort to protect their brother from anything and everything. But since the fire, Duncan had been growing. He had been getting stronger and neither one of them had bothered to realize it.

Duncan could take care of himself.

"Okay," Quigley finally agreed, all the tension in his shoulder giving out. "Okay."

Violet handed the caged boy her lock pick. "Here, take my lock-pick," she instructed. "And you can use that toboggan to escape." She glanced over to see the Hook-Handed Man getting closer. "We have to go, Quigley."

Quigley felt entirely stupid as he felt tears well in his eyes. "How did you get to be so brave?" he asked. Duncan was a lot of things, but brave had never really been one of them.

His brother took his hand. "With you and Isa as siblings, it's hard not to learn a thing or two," he answered.

Quigley took a deep breath before ducking behind the rocks with Violet once more. "You're doing the right thing," she assured him. "Come on."

And with that, the two children began their climb down the waterfall. As they did this, Quigley couldn't help but feel like he had just made a huge mistake by leaving his brother on that mountain.

OoOoOo

**I hope you liked it and please review!**


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